THE STORY – As her mother Sandy grapples with an uncertain diagnosis, autistic 22-year-old Margarita must reluctantly grow up.
THE CAST – Lillian Carrier, Gretchen Mol, Jerod Haynes, Tony Hale, Matthew Schwab & Iqbal Theba
THE TEAM – Lauren Meyering (Director/Writer) & Mackenzie Breeden (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 101 Minutes
In one of many heartfelt scenes from Lauren Meyering’s feature directorial debut, “Horsegirls,” Margarita (Lillian Carrier) asks if her mother, Sandy (Gretchen Mol), fears dying. It’s not death that Sandy fears, but rather the thought of leaving her daughter behind, especially in a world where people are made to feel small simply for being themselves. There’s a recurring theme of overprotective love in the film that Meyering confronts with an empathetic glow. Margarita, a young woman with autism, is eager to explore the world and ready to show what she’s capable of. Sandy wants nothing more than for her daughter’s happiness, but also fears that she will be undermined and pitied. The two perspectives slowly collide, giving way to a gorgeously written mother-daughter relationship that centers Margarita’s agency at every turn. Shaped by an authentic voice in actor Lillian Carrier, who is herself on the autism spectrum, “Horsegirls” illuminates a protagonist we rarely get to see on screen.
Inspired by the life of Meyering’s friend Mackenzie Breeden, who appears in the film’s final scene, “Horsegirls” stars Carrier and Mol as a close-knit family unit. Margarita and Sandy spend most of their time together, whether belting out a song at karaoke night or sharing special meals at their favorite restaurant. Margarita often accompanies her mother to chemotherapy and interacts with fellow patients as though they’re part of the family. At home, Sandy’s diagnosis has a gentle, powerful impact, instantly recognizable for those who have lived with a terminally ill loved one. In a vulnerable moment, clumps of her hair fall into Margarita’s hands. The film sits with Margarita’s uncertainty about how to respond and lingers just enough to convey her insight. While she has limited knowledge of her mother’s condition and its severity, she can always sense when something feels off.
While Margarita and her mother share an endearing secret language, they also have secrets of their own. Sandy stresses getting a job as an entry point into adult responsibilities, but Margarita defines independence a little differently. On an evening bike ride with her stuffed horse, Cheeseburger, Margarita discovers a hobby horsing rehearsal. A group of girls, aged a decade younger than her, gallop on hobby horses (faux horse heads on a stick) to replicate the equestrian sport. It’s a choreographed mix of gymnastics and creativity. Margarita, who was never allowed to ride a real horse, spots an opportunity to prove her independence and feel a sense of belonging. To pay the Coach (Jerod Haynes) for weekly rehearsals, she gets a job working at a Halloween store and sneaks out early to keep up with routines.
Independence as a form of uninhibited creative expression shapes “Horsegirls” into something far more spirited than its coming-of-age premise. Meyering deftly conveys the pure joy of discovering your passion, and the wonder of all the possibilities it can lead to. Hobby horsing is a way for Margarita to fulfill her dream of riding horses and achieve an innate desire to connect with people. She’s a wonderfully written character, and should be a star-making role for the enchanting Lillian Carrier. Just as Margarita is integral to the rehearsal group, also rounding up their number of participants to meet championship eligibility, Carrier’s performance is integral to the film’s authenticity. She brings a natural presence and an endearing sense of humor that lights up the screen. It’s an incredibly assured performance that centers on Margarita’s complexities and diversifies the often limited portrayals of autistic characters on screen. It helps that the writing never defines Margarita by a single trait or circumstance. Her unique and layered personality shines through. In a standout recurring bit, she explains the story behind her name: her parents were drunk on margaritas the night she was conceived.
On paper, Sandy could have been reduced to the stereotypical movie mom role of either saintly or villainous. While Sandy’s character leans into the occasional cliche, particularly in her opposition to Margarita’s hobby horsing, there’s enough nuance to craft a realistic perspective. Gretchen Mol plays the role with grounded charisma and excels at letting us into Sandy’s all-consuming fear of leaving her daughter. Mol and Carrier’s wondrous chemistry throughout adds to the film’s lived-in realism. Their perspectives intersect in painfully heartfelt ways, with Margarita headed for a new chapter as her mother’s future dims. This emotional tension builds to an effectively bittersweet final scene. Sandy also has a dynamic arc in the lead-up, from needing tangible proof that things will be okay (such as Margarita getting a job and making her own dinner), to accepting what cannot be controlled in life.
The film features an endearing supporting cast, including standout work by Jerod Haynes as the hobby-horsing Coach. Haynes and Carrier share a resonant scene centered on what it means to be a part of something. When the Coach speaks on how hard people try to embody who they think they’re “supposed to be,” Margarita amusingly suggests how exhausting that must feel. Her character’s sincerity makes for some charming interactions, especially at the Halloween store with her manager, Hank (Iqbal Theba), and co-worker, Felix (Matthew Schwab). Tony Hale also shows up in a small role as Margarita’s uncle, Patrick, who gets called in as a source of comfort and brings an instantly warm presence.
There’s a majestic, graceful quality to horses that Meyering retains in her camerawork. These may be faux stick horses the characters prance around on, but they are visually dynamic. We feel the significance of what they represent, from a creative outlet to a means of belonging. Additionally, Meyering’s compassionate direction brings out the humanity in every character, giving us a well-rounded portrait defined by moments of kindness and humility. It’s this sense of community that makes the final act of “Horsegirls” a wondrous watch.
The hobby horsing competition is not about whether Margarita lands every jump or nails the choreography. When she stumbles, the moment immediately becomes uplifting. While it’s made clear throughout the film that the other girls in the group are not her real friends, they turn a stumbling block into part of the team’s choreography and help lift her spirits. The competition radiates community; it’s about the familiar faces who drive her to the venue and greet her when she arrives. It’s about the genuine friend she meets when she steps backstage, and the pure joy when she makes that first jump into a new world. “Horsegirls” shines as an endearing story about the unique, everyday passions that give people a sense of belonging.
